Trusting A Texan (Try to Remember)

by Leann Harris

  As they walked by his desk, her foot caught the corner of the sofa and she stumbled. Putting out her hand to steady herself, she knocked the neat stack of papers on the edge of the desk onto the floor. Rafe lunged as she struggled to regain her balance. He caught her elbow and steadied her. He felt her tense and looked into her face. It was clear that she thought he was going to be mad about the mess.

  “Are you okay?”

  Slowly, she met his eye. After a minute of studying him, she said, “You aren’t mad?”

  “At what? You accidentally tripping?”

  Her glance took in the mess on the floor. “I kind of rearranged your desk.”

  He was waiting for the punch line, then remembered her question earlier about his being a neat freak. Obviously, she was worried about his reaction. And what was also obvious was that she’d had dealings in her past with someone who would’ve blown up at such an accident.

  He shrugged. “Why don’t we pick up this mess, then go have that pudding? I’ve really got an itch for it.”

  She stared at him. He ignored her reaction and calmly began to pick up the sheets of paper. When it became apparent to her that he wasn’t going to erupt, she helped him.

  As she handed him the last few sheets, she smiled at him.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  She opened her mouth, then shook her head. “Just, thank you.”

  She looked at his chest, and Rafe suddenly became aware of his state of undress.

  “Give me a second to put on a shirt, and then I’ll join you in the kitchen.”

  She nodded.

  He walked down the hall and disappeared.

  April breathed a sigh of relief when she was alone. When she had stumbled into his desk, every nerve in her body had gone on alert, worried about his reaction. Instead of being angry, he’d been understanding and helpful. Whatever she’d been prepared for, that wasn’t it.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, April walked into the kitchen. What an odd man Rafe was. Particularly about his office. Yet when she’d messed it up, he hadn’t been upset. His reaction was comforting, putting to rest fears she hadn’t even known she had.

  She was still nervous from the nightmare and her reaction to Rafe holding her. She was drawn to him as a seed in the spring needs sun and rain. She thirsted for him.

  Feeling freed from some unknown demon, April walked into the kitchen, trying to remember where she had put the package of instant pudding. Opening the cabinet, she scanned the shelves and found it up on top. Obviously, Rafe had put it up there. Stretching, she tried to reach for it, but she was about five inches too short.

  “Here, let me help you.” Rafe’s voice enfolded her. He easily plucked the box off the top shelf and handed it to her. He didn’t move back, but his large body surrounded her, making her sizzlingly aware of every inch of his form.

  She noticed he’d put on a T-shirt. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed. He had an incredible chest, and stomach muscles that were tight and hard. She remembered with clarity how his skin felt under her fingers.

  Her breathing sped up as she hung on that precipice of anticipation. She wanted to lean closer and lay her hand on his chest, then raise up on her tiptoes and brush her lips across his. Her desires must have shown in her eyes because he swallowed and stepped away.

  She was able to draw a deep breath. “I need to know where your bowls are, and do you have a hand mixer?”

  He gave her a blank look, as if she’d asked if he had an alien from outer space hidden in the kitchen.

  “Hand mixer?” He sounded as if he were in a fog.

  “You know, it’s a machine you hold in your hand, and it has beaters?”

  “Oh.” He scratched his head. “I got one from my mother’s kitchen, but I’m not sure where I put it. I don’t have a need for it too often.”

  “No joke.”

  He stared at her, then laughed, appreciating her sense of humor. He walked to a cabinet and opened it. “Let’s see if it’s in here.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure if I wanted to know how to fingerprint a man, you could tell me. Or if I wanted to take evidence from a crime scene, you could tell me. But you don’t know zip about your kitchen.”

  “You wouldn’t take evidence from a crime scene. You gather it. And if you did take evidence from a crime scene, I’d question why you were doing it.”

  “See, I told you so.” She looked among the small appliances.

  He shrugged. “I guess it depends on what you’re interested in.”

  “Ah, here it is,” she called out and lifted it so he could see. “Do you have any idea where the beaters are?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s lucky that Rangers don’t have to wrestle with kitchen appliances, isn’t it?”

  “That’s for sure. But I bet everything on your horse’s saddle is in great shape.”

  He nodded.

  “We’re all good at something. I don’t expect too many Rangers are handy in the kitchen. Now, how about those beaters. ‘Cause if you don’t have any, you might have to do the pudding.”

  He pulled out the utensil drawer, and they carefully went through it, but there were no beaters to be found. In the end, April put the milk and mix in a bowl and told Rafe to stir it vigorously for two minutes. When he was through, he handed the bowl back to her.

  “I’ll let you take over from here. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. Why, there’s got to be several old-timers whirling in their graves. A Ranger mixing pudding!” He shook his head.

  Her laughter rang through the kitchen. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone about the victory of the pudding.” She poured the pudding into several dishes, then carried them to the table. “Well, let’s see how well you did.” She took a bite. “It’s passable,” she teased.

  Rafe took a bite. “Well, for a novice, I think I did a decent job.”

  “You did, but if you’d found the beaters, it would’ve been a snap.”

  Motioning toward the kitchen, he said, “Feel free to look for them. Only, I can’t guarantee that I brought them back with me from my mother’s.”

  “Would you like a glass of milk to go with your pudding?” she asked.

  He gave her a stern look. “There are just some things that Rangers don’t do. Milk is one of them.”

  She bit her lip to keep from giggling. “I’m sorry. I don’t know the Ranger rules.”

  “Well, the milk rule is down there on the list about seventh or eighth.”

  April stood and poured herself some milk, then returned to the table. “You want to tell me what the other rules are?”

  He finished his pudding and threw the spoon in the bowl. “Nope. Those are secret. We don’t tell them to non-Rangers.”

  She smiled. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, so whatcha going to do about it?” He stretched out, lacing his hands behind his head.

  The thought came out of nowhere, but the temptation proved to be too unbearable. With lightning-quick speed, she jumped up and began to tickle him under his arms.

  Instantly, his arms snapped down and he wrapped them around her waist, pulling her down into his lap. “Oh, so you want to play?” His tone sounded challenging.

  “No, I think I’m done.”

  “I don’t think so.” And he began to return the favor, tickling her waist. She quickly found out that she was ticklish. More so than Rafe was.

  “Oh, stop,” she choked Between laughs. She was wiggling, trying to escape his fingers. “Remember your wound, Rafe.”

  He looked at her, then at where she was sitting on his left leg. “Unless you decide to kick me, I’ll be okay.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  His hand cupped her face. “I know that.”

  April looked into his eyes. All signs of playfulness were gone, replaced by a burning awareness of her. All her senses came roaring to life at the same instant. She felt his arousal under her bottom, saw the
thundering of his blood in the veins of his neck, heard the harshness of his breathing as he tried to control his reaction.

  But it was that very struggle for control that touched April. It was obvious that he wanted her. She found herself drawn down into the vortex of his passion.

  Lightly she traced his bottom lip with her finger, then risked glancing at him. His eyes were nearly black with desire. Yet, April felt no fear. Only want, and need.

  She settled her mouth on his and it was as if she’d opened up a flood gate. The tension she felt in Rafe—his holding back—evaporated, and he turned the full force of his desire on her.

  He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. He laid her down, then followed her onto the mattress. Lightly, he ran his fingers over her cheek, then along her jaw. His hand slipped down her neck, resting at the base, then his lips covered hers.

  It was a gentle exploring and tasting, as he made sure that this was what she wanted. And it was. April wanted this passion from him, these strong emotions that she felt stirring in him. With a minimum of fuss, he pulled her T-shirt up and over her head. His shirt also landed on the floor. Her fingers were immediately tracing the ridges of his stomach, making his skin twitch with reaction. His hand settled over hers.

  “I want you to enjoy this. If you do too much of that, it will be all over before we start.”

  His concern touched her deeply. Not only did he desire her, but he wanted her to enjoy this time with him. She smiled.

  “I’ll try. But touching you is so exciting. And wonderful.”

  Rafe rested his forehead against hers and breathed deeply, which only added to their awareness of each other. “Querida, I’m trying to make this good for you, but each time you open that luscious mouth of yours, you say something that pushes me closer to the edge.”

  “What do you want me to do with my mouth?”

  He groaned. “Such visions.”

  “I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?”

  His head snapped up. “Oh, no. What you are doing is being incredibly sexy and wonderful. So wonderful that I don’t know if my heart can take it.”

  She smiled at him and looped her arms around his neck. “For the first time since I found myself in this situation, I feel whole.”

  He muttered something under his breath, but then his lips claimed hers, and she didn’t worry about anything else but the moment.

  His hands skimmed over her body, divesting her of her remaining clothes. His mouth cherished her, tasting and nipping, causing shivers of pleasure to skate along her skin. When his mouth found her breast, April thought she would die from the pleasure that thundered through her. Her fingers sifted through his dark hair, and her heart contracted with emotion. His mouth moved to her other breast, then down to her stomach. When he looked up, the passion in his dark eyes beckoned her. She smiled her agreement. Moving up her body, he entered her. April felt complete.

  Joy.

  Peace.

  When he shouted his completion, she was there with him, falling into the fire, coming out the other side a different person.

  If only she knew the person she’d been.

  Rafe woke slowly, more relaxed than he’d been since...when? April was in his arms, her body pressed close to his. He’d never before felt such a sense of contentment. And it was all because of the woman he held in his arms.

  What they had shared last night had been incredible. It went beyond simple sex. He couldn’t explain it, but there it was.

  She sighed as she snuggled closer to him. He grinned, remembering how responsive she’d been. They had made love a second time. Slower, richer, with more care. And he could recall every detail.

  Yet in the midst of this bliss, there was one big problem. He didn’t know who April was, and she didn’t know who she was, either. But the need he’d sensed in her last night had reached out and captured him. He couldn’t have denied them.

  And yet, as a Ranger sworn to uphold the law, what he’d done didn’t easily fall into the arena of acceptable action. Damn, he’d blown it, but what could he have done?

  He glanced at the bedside clock. It was past time to feed the stock. Callie would be hungry, and if she wasn’t fed on time, the goat tended to be destructive. Lightly kissing April’s forehead, Rafe got up and dressed.

  With a final look at the woman in his bed, Rafe left the room. If he’d had a choice, he would have climbed back in there with her.

  Quit thinking with your zipper, Sanchez, he told himself as he walked outside. There was still a potful of trouble facing them.

  April knew the instant that Rafe had left the bed, but she’d been reluctant to confront him, so she pretended to be asleep.

  When the door closed quietly, she reached out and pulled Rafe’s pillow to her chest. She buried her face in the softness, inhaling deeply. It smelled of man. Visions of last night came in rapid succession along with the feelings that he had aroused in her. They had been so fantastic, beyond her wildest dreams. Or were they? What had been her wildest dreams?

  She was a soul without an anchor.

  She wanted to believe she would get her memory back and that everything would be okay. She’d turn out to be single, and Rafe would fall madly in love with her, and they would live happily ever after. Well, as far-fetched as that scenario was, if she was going to hope, why not go for broke?

  What would happen if she wasn’t single? What if she was married? And had children? A dread welled up in her heart.

  “No, that can’t be,” she whispered to the empty room.

  But in spite of her wants and hopes, there was this black cloud hanging over her head, and a sense of doom. No matter what she wanted, she couldn’t ignore the possibility that she had commitments that should be her first allegiance.

  She looked around Rafe’s room. The pieces of furniture were of dark wood, old and scarred. It looked like Rafe had inherited it from the great-uncle who originally owned this ranch.

  On the dresser was a picture of an older woman—no doubt his mother. She was smiling, holding up some award. His mother had been a beautiful woman, with mesmerizing eyes and a beautiful smile.

  April glanced around the room for some clothing to put on. It was silly. Rafe had seen her nude, had kissed a great amount of her skin, but she couldn’t bring herself to race around his house without a stitch on. She slipped on her T-shirt and left the room. She wanted to be dressed when she met him again. Perhaps clothes would make the meeting a little less awkward.

  Rafe finished throwing out the last of the chicken feed. As he fed each animal, he remembered every detail of last night when April had been with him.

  Damn, he had it bad.

  He rested his arms on the corral fence and looked out at the distant mountains. Did he regret what had happened between himself and April?

  How could you deplore paradise?

  But he had this sinking feeling that this paradise had a serpent. The trouble was, he couldn’t identify it. But as sure as snakes like to sun themselves, it was going to show up and bite him. The question was, when?

  His eyes scanned the horizon, reminding him that there was a shooter out there. Rafe needed to check with the lab and see if they’d gotten the package he sent. He needed to talk to Steve and see if any additional information had turned up. Finally, he had to look at the missing persons lists—again.

  When he walked inside, the smell of coffee greeted him. He carefully closed the door after him. April stood at the stove, stirring something.

  She glanced up and he saw the wariness in her green eyes. Oh, there was a tension there. Its smell competed with the coffee.

  “There’s coffee fixed if you want it.”

  “Okay.” As after-the-loving dialogue went, their exchange lacked something.

  She nodded. “I hope you like oatmeal.”

  He wondered how she’d react if he told her he hated oatmeal with a passion. He threw her a glance. “Oatmeal? Where did you find any oatmeal?”

  �
��I got it when we went shopping. Don’t you remember? I did buy something besides chocolate.”

  He rubbed his neck. “Yeah, I seem to remember that.”

  “I thought that oatmeal would be better for you than eggs again. Cholesterol.”

  He looked at her in amazement. She was concerned for him.

  Rafe leaned back against the counter and took a sip of his coffee. He didn’t want to tell April that he’d rather slop pigs with oatmeal than eat it. “Mabel often fixes oatmeal for breakfast and if I’m in Saddle that early, I’ll stop by to eat.” He didn’t mention that he wouldn’t order oatmeal.

  She nodded. He sensed she wanted to talk about last night, but he decided he wasn’t going to be the first person to broach the subject. He didn’t have a clue as to how she felt and he was going to wait and see what her reaction was. No sense in shooting himself in the foot if he didn’t have to.

  You’re taking the coward’s way out, said the voice in his head.

  She dished out two bowls of cereal and put them on the table, then set out the milk. He poured her a cup of coffee and joined her.

  A passing stranger would have thought that there were precious jewels in that bowl of oatmeal, the way April looked at it. She didn’t meet his eyes.

  As they ate, time seemed to drag. Each and every bite of oatmeal was like hot slime in his mouth. He needed to think about something else. It was obvious that April wasn’t going to say anything. Rafe decided that if they were going to discuss their loving, he was going to have to bring up the subject himself.

  “April.”

  “Yes.” She still wouldn’t look at him. Her shoulders were hunched protectively.

  He took her hand in his. She tried to resist, but in the end, he won the tug-of-war. “We need to talk about—”

  The phone rang. Rafe shook his head, stood and answered the phone. April looked relieved.

  “Sanchez here,” he answered.

  “Rafe, I just got back a report from the FBI,” Derek told him. “It came back without a match. Your mystery lady isn’t wanted on any federal warrants.”

  “That’s terrific, Derek. Thanks for calling.” Rafe hung up the phone, turned and smiled at April. “Your fingerprints aren’t on file with the FBI.”